Burning Offer (Trevor's Harem #1) by Aubrey Parker

Author:Aubrey Parker [Parker, Aubrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B0184SY5IM
Publisher: EROS
Published: 2016-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Daniel

There’s a window at the far end of my third-floor office, at the back of a huge walk-in closet. You have to part clothes to even know the window is there, and should only part the clothing to look through the window after you’ve shut the closet door and killed the lights.

The window doesn’t look out on the grounds or the pool or the courtyard or the mountains.

It looks into a room.

With the clothing shoved aside, I sit on the cheap metal folding chair I keep tucked behind a shoe rack, now unfolded and set before the window. I cross my legs, lean back, and watch her.

Bridget is looking into the mirror on her side, brushing her long, light brown hair. I know much more about her than I can admit — it’s part of my job, particular to this competition — so I know she’s never had it colored. That means the highlights I see in her room lights are natural.

As is everything about her.

Her face, which I admired even back when things were very different, is natural. Primping for dinner, she applies little makeup, putting liner on her eyes, picking at her lashes with a mascara brush, and applying pale pink lipstick. It takes only a moment, and then she’s done. The smoothness of her skin is natural, like the barely visible spray of freckles on her cheeks.

I’ve only seen her body that once, in the alley, and it’s all natural, too. My mind keeps straying back, wanting to see more. Knowing it’s wrong, I’ve watched her through this one-way mirror on and off since I came back from retrieving Jessica, the final contestant, but she has yet to take anything off. Probably fears she’s being watched, which of course she is. They all are. But none like Bridget.

But most of all, her story is natural.

Her attitude is natural.

Her sense of humor, such as I’ve seen it from a distance, seems natural.

And above all, her honesty is refreshingly natural.

There’s no pretense.

No subterfuge and guile, as I’m already seeing in the others. As I’ve noted in my meticulous notes, some of which I’ve shared with Trevor already. Of course, he has his favorites — but then, that’s what anyone who knows Trevor would expect.

There’s a knock at my door. Not the closet door, but the door between the office and the hallway. It’s locked. Because the last thing I want is for someone to find me in here, in this closet. Watching her.

But even after the knock, I don’t move from where I’m sitting. I watch Bridget brush her long hair, curious how she’ll wear it. I’m curious about everything she does. Because as much as I thought I knew, she’s turned out different than I expected.

Tough.

Self-assured.

Cocky.

Brash.

Those things I was sure of.

But also soft, on the inside, where she never lets anyone see. There’s something beneath her skin that I didn’t know was there. And I of all people — we of all people — should have known. But Bridget came in through a loophole.

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